


When There's Nothing Left To Burn

by badgerling



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerling/pseuds/badgerling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two deaths too many, and they both finally snap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When There's Nothing Left To Burn

**Author's Note:**

> for a [**jd_ficathon**](http://jd-ficathon.livejournal.com/) prompt-a-thon prompt: "First time: angry/wall!sex. (The "do what I say because I can't handle you dying AGAIN!" kind)" Came out more "blowjobs against a door" though.

Jack's never been all that talkative before or after debriefings. That is, after all, the time to be serious, to focus, to get down to business, and to decide what, exactly, will be going in the official record and what will probably be staying between SG-1 and the person in charge (formerly Hammond, then Weir, now Jack, and sometimes it gives Daniel a headache to think of all the command changes, take-backs, and retirements). This isn't something that's changed since Jack became the guy in charge, only now it's Sam deciding what the IOA needs to know, what Jack needs to know, and what stays with the three of them.

Jack usually knows when she's hiding something, but he never asks. Sometimes it's better that way, and even Jack knows that.

Today is different.

Today Daniel came back from the dead. Again. Hopefully for the last time, but, you know, he thought that _last_ time too, and Jack hasn't looked at him since he arrived in his office naked. Daniel gives his own abbreviated debriefing before finally being allowed to actually put on pants, and once he settles in for the real, detailed debrief, he expects questions. From Jack, from Sam, hell, from Bra'tac, but Jack only stares at the open file in front of him, seemingly far more interested in it than anything his formerly dead best friend might have to say.

It's Sam that asks the questions, occasionally looking at Jack for some kind of guidance, but Jack's still staring at the file, and Daniel wonders if he's even turned a page. He doesn't remember it, but maybe he blinked and missed something, and finally, Sam runs out of questions and shrugs as she clears her throat.

"Well, that was exciting," Jack says, finally, closing the file a little more forcefully that probably necessary. He rises to his feet, and everyone else takes that as their cue to find somewhere else to be. They've known Jack for years, and they can read his moods just as well as Daniel can. Only Daniel's stubborn enough to stay until they're both the only people in the briefing room - Jack still standing at the head of the table, Daniel still sitting where has been for the last hour.

Now it's a question of who is going to say something first, and once upon a time, it would have been Daniel, anxious and desperate to fill uncomfortable silence with words of some kind, but he's slept a lot since then, died a couple of times too, and that thought makes him snort as he rises to his own feet. He doesn't move away from the table, though. Daniel knows, somehow, someway, that he hasn't been dismissed yet.

"I'm really sick of doing this, Daniel," Jack finally says, looking up at him for a moment before turning and heading into his office. When the door isn't slammed behind him, Daniel takes that as the invitation it obviously is.

"Well, you signed up for this when you got promoted, so it's actually your own fault," Daniel says as he closes the door behind him. He's not stupid. He knows that the debriefings and endless paperwork aren't really what Jack is talking about, but even Jack flicking his eyes up to Daniel and giving him a tight smile that doesn't entirely reach his suddenly cold and unfriendly eyes, even that doesn't stop Daniel from finishing with, "If you want to get technical."

"Exactly how many times are you planning on dying, because I think if you go a couple more times, I can get flowers in bulk at a discount," Jack says, his voice a little more biting and obviously designed to make Daniel flinch. Daniel watches Jack's jaw clench and unchelch when he doesn't back down or flinch away. "I mean, what are you on now? Twelve?"

Daniel only shrugs, sliding his hands in his pockets as he makes a show of actually counting the number of times in his head. "Well, only two real deaths." He shrugs again before adding, "If you want to get technical." That is the wrong answer, and Daniel figures he's not being contrite enough or sorry enough or silent enough from Jack's perspective right now. He knows that with absolutely certainty as Jack's fist clenches at his side, and his eyes seem to darken as he stares at Daniel.

"Oh. Just _two_ ," Jack says, unclenching his fist as he waves Daniel's words away. He turns, still standing behind the desk, but now facing Daniel completely. "That's still two too many, Daniel." Like Daniel had any control over it whatsoever? Daniel narrows his eyes at Jack, and he opens his mouth to say _something_ , to argue the point, but Jack cuts him off with another raised hand. "I _know_. It's not your fault, you don't do it on purpose, but I really do not care." His voices raises at the end, though he's not quite shouting.

Daniel watches his fists clench again as Jack obviously tries to hold back the shouting, and Daniel knows just how thin the ice is, but he pushes forward anyway as he asks, "Do you think I enjoy it? Dying painfully is not _fun_ , Jack." Jack's eyes narrow this time, but Daniel steps forward, closer to the desk, closer to Jack ( _closer to danger_ , a small voice in the back of his mind supplies). "And I'm sorry that sometimes we're in a dangerous job, and sometimes it catches up to us. To me. Whatever."

"You seem to enjoy throwing yourself in the line of fire, though. Every time I turn around, you're dead, dying, or close enough to dead to count, and it's really...annoying." Jack's jaw was clenched completely, and Daniel could almost hear the grinding of his teeth, or maybe he was imagining that. "Fucking annoying," Jack says, suddenly sounding both tired and disgusted all at once.

"I'm sorry me being dead is an annoyance, General O'Neill, but I seem to recall times when I've been dead, dying, or nearly dead where it's your fault anyway, so why don't we call it even?" Daniel is pretty sure he's only reacting to Jack's annoyance, the veiled anger, the exhaustion, but Daniel would really like to take a nap or read a book or, you know, recover from dying, saving the world, and coming back in one piece. When Jack tilts his head and narrows his eyes again, Daniel tosses his hands up in exasperation as he rolls his eyes and says, "P5S-381? When you were willing to blow me up with a bomb that was close enough to being nuclear?" Daniel even leans forward, clasps his hands, and lifts his eyebrows, like he's trying to make Jack remember, but it doesn't matter because Daniel got over that back when it happened. It's just...apparently Jack wants to bring up the past, and Daniel thinks he might as well join in.

"You knew the dangers," Jack says, pointing a finger at Daniel, like he was making a very clear and logical point.

Which he is, because it's the same point Daniel has been trying to make since he descended the first time. "I always know the dangers, Jack." Now it's Daniel's turn to sound tired. "I knew what would probably happen on Langara, I knew what I was getting into with the replicator. I've known all of that since I joined the Stargate program. I can't just...stand by and let stuff happen. You know that."

Daniel sounds way too calm to his own ears, and obviously to Jack's too, because his friend takes two steps forward until they're close enough to feel each other's body heat. When Jack points his finger at Daniel for emphasis this time, he's pressing his finger hard against Daniel's chest. It's probably going to bruise, Daniel thinks. Maybe.

"Sometimes, I wish you wouldn't. Just once. Step aside. Let someone else throw themselves into danger. That's why we have the Marines," Jack says, each word being punctuated by his finger pressing harder against Daniel's chest. Daniel knows he's probably supposed to be backing away, but instead, he plants his feet firmly against the ground and looks p at Jack, meeting his eyes squarely.

"I'll try to do better next time," Daniel says, and that is obviously the wrong thing to say. Or maybe the wrong tone of voice, whichever, because the next thing Daniel knows, he's shoved back hard against the door to Jack's office, Jack's hands tight at his shoulders, and that grip, Daniel knows that grip is going to leave hand-shaped bruises on his arms.

"There's not going to be a next time, Daniel." Jack's voice is lower this time. Dangerous. The kind of voice that Daniel's only heard a couple of times before, usually right about when someone ends up bleeding on the floor. Daniel should be smart enough not to respond, not to keep goading Jack, because he knows that's exactly what he's doing.

"You don't know that. Front-line team, Jack, and people keep wanting us dead for one reason or another." Daniel's voice is just as low as Jack's, even if it's not as dangerous. Daniel's reacting more to the closeness rather than the tension. Jack's too close for them to speak in a normal tone of voice obviously. Daniel's words get him shoved back against the door again, like Jack's trying to shake sense into him.

"Then promise me you're not going to do it again," Jack says, but even he doesn't believe his own words. Daniel can tell by the way his hands tighten at his shoulders. Daniel looks away from Jack's face, focusing on the wall for a moment before he turns back and looks up at him.

"You know I can't do that," Daniel finally says, his voice going softer, more apologetic, because they both know how dangerous the galaxy can be on a good day, to say nothing about the bad ones. Replicators and Goa'uld might be gone, but really. There's always something.

"Damnit, Daniel," and those words are more of a snarl than anything, and Daniel grits his teeth as he keeps staring right at Jack. Challenging him.

"Fuck you, Jack," Daniel says, knowing there's probably something far more eloquent he could say, knowing that nothing else could really cover everything, though. Those words do make Jack tilt his head, his eyes narrow, but Daniel keeps his eyes wide with mock innocence. Jack exhales sharply through his teeth, and Daniel's mostly sure he's about to get punched. Wouldn't be the first time, though the first time when there wasn't weird alien influence involved, but before Daniel can brace himself for the hit, he gets shoved back into the door again and effectively pinned in place with Jack's hands and hips.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice is still softer, but far more cautious. It is times like this that Jack gets really dangerous, but Jack doesn't answer Daniel. At least, not really. He moves closer, pushing Daniel firmly back against the door, and before Daniel can ask anything else, his words are muffled when Jack presses his mouth against his. It is almost more teeth than lips, Jack's anger carrying over into the kiss, and Daniel has to pull his head back sharply when he tastes blood.

He's breathing too hard to speak, and he only blinks at Jack, letting his forehead crease in confusion. That isn't what Daniel had been expecting, and Daniel's reaction is obviously not what Jack was expecting either. Daniel runs his tongue over his lower lip, wincing at the pain from the cut where Jack's teeth had caught skin. He hasn't taken his eyes off of Jack's face, though, and he doesn't miss the flick of the other man's eyes down to his mouth or the shiver that passes through him at the sight.

Daniel's smile at that is breathless and sharp. The anger and annoyance at Jack hasn't gone away, but he likes that reaction, just from such a small thing, and that's what urges him forward, hands sliding into Jack's hair as he pulls him down into another kiss. Jack's hands finally leave Daniel's shoulders only to come down to his hips. That hold isn't as tight, but Jack still manages to use it to shove Daniel back against the door again, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and Daniel's sure he's going to need to stop and breathe sometime.

Eventually.

Right now, he twists his fingers in Jack's hair, pulling hard, and when Jack arches toward him, Daniel can't help but press his body against Jack's as he deepens the kiss.

Jack's teeth catch on Daniel's lip again, and Daniel inhales sharply as pain mixes with the taste of Jack, and it's not really as unpleasant as Daniel thinks it should be. The press of Jack's mouth against his sends bright white stars behind his eyes with each movement of their mouths and each small flare of pain, and when Jack presses closer, his tongue sliding over the cut, making Daniel shiver and moan into Jack's mouth, Daniel swears that he can feel Jack laughing.

Not that he has time to think about that, because Jack's hands don't stay on Daniel's hips for long. Soon enough, Jack's hands tug the BDU shirt up and out of the way. It takes him a little longer to pull the t-shirt out of Daniel's pants, but once he does, Jack has to break the kiss to look down Daniel's body, and Daniel takes that chance to actually breathe, hard and fast. When Jack slid his fingers over the skin beneath Daniel's t-shirt, just above the waistband of his pants, Daniel pressed his shoulders and head back against the door. His hips, though, those he thrusts toward Jack, wanting more of Jack's hands, more of Jack in general, and if he squeezes his eyes shut, he can almost pretend that they're not currently up against the door in Jack's office.

It gets a little harder to pretend that when Jack's teeth scrap over his jaw and his hands work up higher on Daniel's chest. By the time that Jack's thumb brushes over his nipple, Daniel's eyes are open and blinking up against the ceiling, but he ducks his head enough to allow both of them to fumble and tug Daniel's shirt off. Daniel doesn't press his head back against the door again, not even when his shirts hit the floor and Jack's hands come down to his hips again. He's barely breathing now, almost waiting to see if Jack comes to his senses, but Daniel can't help it when Jack's fingers dip between the skin of Daniel's hips and his pants, and his body arches forward.

There's a bulge in his pants that's only getting harder and bigger the more Jack touches him, and most of Jack attention is focused on that, his hands shaking against Daniel's skin as he pops the belt open, leaving it hanging their as he focuses on the zipper. When Jack's thumb massages Daniel's cock through his pants as he works the zipper down, Daniel's fingers tangle in Jack's hair and pull.

Hard.

That gets Jack's full attention, and even though his hands don't leave the front of Daniel's pants, he still meets Daniel's eyes evenly.

He's not sure what he expected to see when he looks into Jack's eyes right then. Maybe a slight haze of drunkeness (because, really, all the times Daniel's even though about something like this, alcohol has been involved) or anger, maybe, lust certainly, but Jack's eyes are clear and...sad?

Realizing that makes Daniel blink and drop his hands to Jack's shoulders. Jack tilts his head slightly, looking at Daniel then at the hands on his shoulders, but Daniel doesn't say a word right then and Jack uses that as an invitation to continue. Jack's eyes remain on Daniel's as he finishes getting Daniel's pants open and his dick out, and Daniel bows forward, his hands tightening at Jack's shoulders, as Jack's hand wraps around him, stroking slowly.

Daniel can feel every callous, every scar, and it's almost like he can name the battles and the injuries, even the ones he wasn't alive for, as Jack tightens his fingers, Jack's grip firm, but not painful as he reaches the bases of Daniel's cock. Daniel's fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting to keep that eye contact, worried just a little about what might happen if he does break that connection.

Worried Jack will realize what he's doing and stop, and Daniel does not want that.

He finally takes his hands off of Jack's shoulders, sliding them up the back of Jack's neck to bury in his hair again, and Jack's hand strokes back up to the head of Daniel's cock, thumb sliding against the slit and making Daniel's hips buck hard as he presses his forehead against Jack's temple.

He's back to breathing heavy by this point, hard and fast, and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can mutter, "Next time you're worried about me dying," he swallows hard before he can continue, "Give me a reason to stay." Not that that really would have helped this time, but the first time? Maybe. Probably. Hindsight tells Daniel that it would have helped, anyway.

Jack seems to get that, giving Daniel a skeptical look as he lifts his head to rub his cheek against Daniel's as he says, "Would that have stopped you?" All Daniel can do is shrug, which only makes Jack use his body weight and the leverage of his shoulders to pin Daniel harder against the door. Jack's hand moves faster and harder, up and down, Daniel's cock, and Daniel's so caught up in that that he misses Jack's other hand moving from his hip.

He misses the way his pants get shoved down a little more, around his thighs, leaving him bare, but essentially pinned in place, unable to move his legs, but really not want to either. Not with that hand stroking him harder and harder, Daniel's hips thrusting up into it, and not when Jack's other hand slides down, cupping his balls, massing and tugging and making Daniel wish he could spread his legs.

Or making Daniel wish that they weren't in Jack's office, weren't getting very, very close to breaking several regulations and probably a few laws. Jack's face is pressed against the curve of his neck, and he feels rather than hears Jack laugh, softly, against his skin, that brush of air sending shivers and goosebumps through his body. When Jack suddenly moves away, taking his hands and his body heat with him, Daniel slumps forward gasping for air.

"Jack?" he manages, wanting to beg him to at least finish before getting nerves or morals or whatever this is, but he doesn't even realize his eyes are squeezed shut until they fly open when he feels Jack's mouth pressing against his hip. He stares down his body to find Jack on his knees, fingers curled around the waist of Daniel's pants, pulling them down to his knees. Daniel still can't move, not that much, but he's almost afraid to. He does push his shoulders back against the wall as he thrusts his hips forward when Jack's hands slide up from his knees, along the back of his thighs to cup his ass.

His hand comes down to tangle in Jack's hair again, but gentler this time, tentative. Daniel's suddenly pretty sure this is a dream. Or a trick, like Jack is going to tease him then leave him, and considering how angry Jack is, Daniel wouldn't be surprised.

"It's not a dream," Jack says, his lips still against Daniel's hips, and Daniel isn't even really aware that he's said anything out loud, and he can't even think of a decent reply, because right after Jack's breath finishes sending goosbumps over his hips and abdomen, Daniel feels the long, slow slide of Jack tongue on the head of his cock. His fingers tighten in Jack's hair, and for a moment, he stops breathing. There's just something fascinating about watching Jack's tongue tracing the tip of his cock before slowly taking it into his mouth completely.

Daniel's head thumps back against the door, loudly, loud enough for Daniel to worry, just for a moment, about someone hearing them, but then the heat and the wetness and the feeling of Jack's tongue against the vein push all of those thoughts out of his mind quickly. Jack's hands on his ass lift slightly, feeding more of his dick into Jack's mouth, and when Jack's fingers slide into his crack, Daniel has to bite down hard on his lip to keep from moaning or shouting or maybe both, probably both, and he only hisses a breath as he fights between pressing back against Jack's hands and thrusting forward into his mouth.

Jack pauses when he's taken as much of Daniel in that he can, and Daniel makes a soft sound, half-groan, half-whimper, and his hips buck forward when he feels Jack chuckle around him. Jack's still moving slowly when he slides his mouth back up the shaft, but he's moving a little faster, a little surer when he opens his throat a little more and takes just a little bit more of Daniel's cock down his throat. Daniel's fighting to hold still, still half sure he's going to scare Jack off, but when one of those fingers in his crack presses against his opening, gently, but enough to make Daniel have to cover his mouth with a hand to keep from shouting as he thrusts forward.

That's really all the encouragement he needs, thrusting his hips when Jack moves forward and pulling back when Jack does as well. Daniel has a fleeting moment of feeling bad that this isn't going to last that long, but that disappears quickly enough when one of Jack's hands leave his ass and move between his thighs, stroking over his balls and between his legs as much as he can. Daniel slumps a little, trying to spread his legs, trying to communicate without words that he wants more, would really like to move, is roughly three seconds away from spreading himself open just for Jack.

Jack, though, settles for stroking his hand over Daniel's balls, his inner thigh, and back against while his other hand continues to stroke against his asshole, and his mouth is trying to swallow Daniel whole.

He keeps one hand in Jack's hair, fingers twisting and tugging, trying desperately to hold on to _something_ , and he can feel his lips moving against his hand that's still covering his mouth. He's not even sure how long he's been repeating Jack's name, over and over and over, and as his entire body tightens, tenses, and burns with something that's almost like fire but a hell of a lot more pleasant, even his hand can't muffle his shout as he calls out Jack's name and comes, spilling down Jack's throat.

His eyes are closed tightly, but he doesn't feel Jack move away from him until Daniel's completely finished. He tries to open his eyes, wants some kind of reassurance that Jack's not going to hate him for some reason, but he only catches a glimpse of Jack wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing Daniel's hip bone.

Daniel's pretty sure he may never see anything but those bright white stars. And that he's never going to be able to breathe properly again, mostly because he's pretty sure he shouldn't still been breathing this hard. Right? He can feel Jack still on his knees, the other man's forehead pressing against Daniel's hipbone, and what should have been an uncomfortable weight felt a little too much like coming home.

His fingers remain twisted in Jack's hair, curling and uncurling slowly, almost like he is petting him, or soothing them both, even Daniel didn't know. He has to swallow several times, try breathing through his nose, but eventually he manages to get his brain and mouth to start working in tandem again. For the most part because his voice is rough, he is still panting for air, even as he says, "Well. That's settled."

He feels Jack laugh, softly, against his hip before lifting his head to look up Daniel's body. "You know it's not. We'll have the same argument tomorrow," Jack says, rising to his feet and pulling Daniel's pants back up his legs as he does, making sure to take his time running his fingers over Daniel's thighs. He leaves Daniel's pants undone as he rests one hip against the door, the other pressing against Daniel, and his hand traces Daniel's hipbone almost lazily, but definitely possessively.

Daniel presses his head back against the wall, letting his breathing slow naturally as he tries not to lean into Jack's warmth too much. He can't help the satisfied smile that he presses against Jack's shoulder before turning to kiss the corner of his mouth. "You make that sound like such a bad thing." Daniel knows that, eventually, possibly, they'll have to talk about feelings, about the future, about what the hell just happened, but the afterglow is far too tempting right then. He breathes in, his hand coming to Jack's hip as well, slipping under the edge of his t-shirt, fingers curling in the belt loops to pull him closer. "Beer tonight, my place?"

"You don't drink beer," Jack replies automatically, but it's almost teasing, almost a promise to bring his own. He presses his mouth to Daniel's temple, his other hand coming up to press Daniel's head down against his shoulder. "And if you die on me now, Daniel, I will physically hurt you," Jack says, his mouth right against Daniel's ear. When Daniel lifts his head to argue that that doesn't make any sense whatsoever, Jack silences him with a kiss.


End file.
